


Poison & Wine

by AFey



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-23 02:07:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13777431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AFey/pseuds/AFey
Summary: "Gird your loins!"Not even Nigel's warning can prepare her for Miranda.





	1. Poison and Wine

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song by The Civil Wars

_Your mouth is poison, your mouth is wine_

_Poison & Wine - The Civil Wars_

_**************_

“Gird your loins!”

It serves as a warning for _Runway_ underlings. A dire message that Miranda Priestly is within striking distance. On the day of Andy’s interview at the magazine, it’s a confusing exclamation that makes no sense until she sets eyes on her potential boss.

And then the puzzle pieces start to take formation.

Miranda’s a General issuing orders that brook no argument. Marshalling troops with the expectation they’ll perform to her standards. If Emily’s behaviour is any indication, this workplace is indeed a battlefield. The proverbial flows from the top, down the chain of command, and lands squarely on those tethered to the bottom rung. Which will be her, if she’s successful. As realisations go, it’s an uncomfortable one.

Nothing in her past prepares her for the walk into Miranda's office. Her words are rushed as she makes her ill-prepared pitch. Met with a disdainful dismissal she figures she has nothing to lose and so speaks the truth. For some reason it works. Andy hopes she won’t come to regret it.

Her first week at _Runway_ is like being thrown into the deep end of a shark-infested pool. Emily is either too busy or completely uninterested in teaching Andy how to do her job, so she blunders her way through. And as for Miranda, words drip like venom from her lips. Her perfectly made-up lips. The contrast between her regal beauty and the cruel barbs she casts constantly surprises Andy.

As weeks go by, Andy adjusts to the frantic pace and almost impossible expectations set by Miranda. And all goes well until a damn hurricane traps her boss in Florida, which is Andy’s fault. Naturally. Of course Miranda makes her displeasure obvious. Harsh words hurled in a quiet, measured tone with unerring accuracy.

She seeks comfort from Nigel and instead receives a speech of the tough love variety. It’s enough to snap her out of a misguided notion that she’s above the job. She’s a graduate with no real world experience and this is her opportunity to grow and learn. It’s also her chance to impress Miranda enough that once the year is up she can escape to somewhere slightly more sane.

If the blatant once-over and licking of lips is anything to go by, the makeover is a resounding success. More than a success, if the continued heated glances she receives from Miranda are to be trusted. Andy’s pretty sure she’s risking her virtue anytime she’s near her boss’s desk. It shocks her that this is not an uncomfortable realisation.

All goes fairly well until she crosses the path of the Priestly brats. Between Emily’s ambiguous directions and the twins misbehaviour she’s lucky to escape the townhouse in one piece. To make matters worse, the next day she has to run around New York chasing down an illegal Harry Potter manuscript. For them! Through sheer luck she succeeds and sure she’s smug as hell when she proves her worth to Miranda. But really, all she can think is fuck the boy wizard. And screw Caroline and Cassidy, too.

By the time of the gala, Andy’s torn between standing so close to Miranda in a black Valentino gown that she can smell her perfume and being with Nate for his birthday. Surely he’ll understand she can’t walk out on her responsibilities at work. He knows that choices like this are necessary to get ahead. At least she hopes he understands. As she discovers hours later, he doesn’t.

When it comes to partners, Stephen seems to be one person who forgot to read the memo. Don’t drink and embarrass your spouse when she’s trying to do her job. Andy intercepts and distracts Irv but not before she hears Miranda try to placate Stephen. And even if she uses an endearment to pander to his ego, Andy can’t help feeling jealous that Miranda will never call her darling. Which is a startling realisation to say the least.

Just as Nigel warned, her personal life hits the skids at the same time as she really thrives at work. Lily accuses her of skulking in corners with other men (stupid Christian) and Nate breaks up with her on a dirty sidewalk, with claims she’s in a “relationship” with Miranda. She’s not going to admit that if that was on offer she’d happily stake her claim.

Paris, France. Frenetic pace and more insane demands. A cowardly husband announcing his intention to divorce Miranda during the middle of her most important week of the year. Her boss devoid of make up and designer clothes and without such entrapments she looks so vulnerable. As far as Andy’s concerned Stephen’s a total douche. She resists the temptation to say as much.

Her hand is on the handle of the car door and she’s ready to flee. Vulnerable Miranda is long gone and caustic Miranda is back, launching torpedoes with her usual skill. She’s inclined to run, to escape the clutches of this woman who seems to know her so well and thus knows how to hurt her.

Stubbornness and pride conquer her desire to run from Miranda’s side and she follows her boss up the stairs, squashed at her side by the prowling paparazzi. Miranda wears her usual fake smile and Andy’s thankful that she’s a total nobody. She’s too young to have mastered an insincere smile that will fool the masses.

“Andréa, please come with me.”

Please? Something must be seriously wrong if her boss is using one of the ‘magic words’. They certainly aren’t part of her usual repertoire - which makes the use of one right now all the more worrying of course.

“Yes, Miranda.”

They walk down a halfway, leaving the swarming crowd behind. The show is due to start in five minutes but of course it won’t begin until Miranda is ensconced in the front row. The Queen on her throne issuing her verdict.

As they reach the door to a restroom, Andy wonders if blindly following Miranda is such a smart move. Being in a confined and private space with her boss so soon after their last conversation is not the strategy of the wise.

When they’re both inside the clean and spacious restroom, Miranda makes her way across the room and washes her hands. Once she finishes drying them, her intentions become a little clearer when she opens with a question, rather than a reprimand. In her normal quiet tone she asks, “Did you mean it?”

Leaning against the wall, Andy shakes her head in confusion and says, “Sorry, you’ve lost me, Miranda. Mean what?”

“When you asked if there was anything you could do for me,” says Miranda, a note of hesitancy creeping into her voice.

Andy’s stomach lurches in response and her heart starts beating faster in sympathy. She whispers, “What do you want me to do?”

Miranda walks towards her and stops just out of reach. “I want you to fuck me senseless so I remember this trip as something other than a disaster.”

She’s never going to admit that this is exactly what she’s been hoping to hear from Miranda for weeks. Still, she’s concerned about what this will mean for her career. “And what if I say no?”

“Either way, I’ll be writing you a glowing letter of recommendation. This isn’t blackmail, Andréa. And it isn’t a demand.”

Andy steps towards Miranda and stops so only a few inches separate them. This close, she can feel the heat emanating from her boss’s body. It takes all her willpower not to instantly strip her naked.

“Then what is it?”

“A request. That’s all.”

Andy summons all her courage and then reaches for Miranda’s hand to draw her even closer. “I’ll gladly fuck you senseless. But not here. And not now.”

At the pursing of Miranda’s lips she smirks and purrs in her ear, “Believe me, it will be worth the wait.” Intoxicated by the scent of perfume, Andy gives into temptation and runs her tongue around the edge of a perfect ear lobe and feels Miranda grasp her buttock in response.  

“It better be, Andréa,” says Miranda in her usual commanding voice. “You know how I hate to be disappointed.”

Andy draws back until she’s facing Miranda and then without warning, captures her lips in a passionate kiss. Minutes later she reluctantly pulls away. Miranda’s eyes are closed and she’s breathing much faster than usual.

“Well?”

Miranda opens her eyes and smiles. It’s the most amazing smile Andy’s ever seen.  

“Something tells me you will not be my biggest disappointment in the bedroom.”

Andy rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “I’m glad we’ve got that sorted out. Now, we should probably retouch our lipstick and get this show over and done with. The sooner I can get you naked, the better.”

“You know Andréa, this is the only time in my entire career I’ve been tempted to skip an entire show. Not to mention the last two days of Paris Fashion Week. You’re a terrible influence.”

Andy smiles. “Oh, Miranda. You have no idea...yet.”


	2. Take On Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miranda. Andréa. A town car. A hotel room. You get the picture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from the song by A-ha
> 
> Thanks to xvnot15 for giving me advice on a draft of this chapter. Any mistakes are mine because I added and tweaked. You know how it goes.
> 
> (First time writing anything like this in...ages...so hopefully it holds up.)

_Say after me_

_It’s no better to be safe than sorry_

_Take On Me -  A-ha_

Miranda falls asleep in Andréa’s arms, convinced that almost everything in her life is perfect. Well, except for the divorce, the pending paparazzi frenzy, and the need to have a conversation with Nigel about his future. Despite Andréa’s insistence that he is likely devastated by her machinations, she’s confident he’ll be open to an alternative, and in her opinion, better arrangement.

When she wakes up alone a few hours later, she wonders if sleeping with Andréa counts as the biggest miscalculation of her life. The space behind her retains no hint of body warmth, so the abandonment is not recent. Even with her experience of being discarded by husbands, she’s not going to pretend that this isn’t a bitter disappointment.

Up until this trip, she’s never slept with a colleague or boss, let alone one of her assistants. But Andréa Sachs is an exception; has been an exception almost from the first moment she entered her office cloaked in an unusual blend of obliviousness, self-righteousness and brashness. Even if the outcome is disappointing, Miranda refuses to feel sorry for herself. Life is about taking calculated risks when necessary, and learning to live with the consequences, whatever they may be.

With the early morning light peeking its way into her room, Miranda decides she may as well get out of bed and attend to the work she neglected the night before. Usually Paris is a balancing act between fashion shows and networking at parties, while still attending to the important details of the magazine. Clearly this is yet another sign that Andréa is different - when else has she ever chosen casual sex over the need to turn mediocre work into perfection?

Except, of course, having sex with Andréa was never supposed to be “just sex”. A point she thought she’d made abundantly clear at some stage during the dirty talk in the town car.

“ _Do you know how my times I've wanted to fuck you across my desk?”_

_Andréa smirked.“Probably as many times as I’ve wanted you to.”_

_“All those tiny Chanel skirts driving me to distraction,” she said before pressing gentle kisses down the side of Andréa’s neck._

_“Look who’s talking,” Andréa replied, running her hand slowly up Miranda's thigh. “You walking around the office in Bill Blass. Now, that’s what I call a major distraction.”_

_“When we return to New York, I’d like to spend more time with you,” she declared, her hand buried in the silkiness of Andréa‘s hair. “And I also want you to meet my daughters properly. I believe they owe you an apology.”_

_Much to her annoyance, Andréa’s hand paused in its ascent. “How long have you known?”_

_“It was brought to my attention the night before we left for Paris” She reached down and squeezed Andréa’s hand. “It seems their guilt finally got the better of them.”_

_“Miranda that’s great and all, but do you think we can stop talking about your daughters. It’s really killing the mood.”_

_“Of course Andréa, I believe your hand was travelling in a most promising direction. Please, continue.”_

_“Oh, two pleases in one day. How did I get so lucky?”_

By the time they’d exited the elevator Miranda had believed they were in agreement. Though it was not an ideal solution, they’d decided, or so she’d thought, that to avoid scrutiny from the press they would keep their affair secret until her divorce from Stephen. That way, Andréa would also have time to establish herself as a journalist before news of their connection became public knowledge.

Given her current circumstances, Miranda figures Andréa changed her mind some time after she’d curled up behind her in bed and sleepily announced that she couldn’t wait to repeat their performance in the morning. Miranda doesn’t suppose she can blame the younger woman. Who in their right mind would want to be saddled with an almost twice-divorced Snow Queen?

After a quick visit to the bathroom, Miranda dons her robe, finding some comfort in its gentle caress against her tired body. As she enters the living area, she finds evidence of the night before strewn across the suite. Her bra hangs on the edge of the coffee table, its location the result of Andréa wanting to suck her nipples without ending up with a mouthful of expensive La Perla lace. Naturally, she’d had no objection and insisted on removing the offending piece of clothing herself.

Her earrings sit nearby, removed in a fit of frustration when her assistant declared them an obstacle. Miranda walks over, picks them up and rolls them in her hand, remembering how Andréa used her tongue and warm breath to tease her to such a state of arousal that the younger woman had stopped in alarm. Miranda’s command to “ _continue this instant,_ ” was met with amusement and renewed vigour.

Her eyes travel to the couch and her clothes crumpled on the floor nearby. Just the thought of what they had done and said there makes her blush a little. Andréa pushed her down, parted her legs, and used her tongue to great effect. “ _I’ve been dying to eat you out like this,_ ” she’d said and with her skill and enthusiasm, she certainly convinced Miranda. “ _In that case, less talking and more eating,_ ” she’d teased in reply. Happily, Andréa had complied.

Given her current unwelcome solitude, she doesn’t really want to be assailed with any more memories but of course her mind has other ideas. Images of Andréa naked and so very, very wet. Calling out her name, again and again, while Miranda knelt between her legs and plunged her tongue, and then her fingers deep inside. And afterwards, curled up on the couch together, kissing softly and sharing the taste of their lust.

A glance towards her desk reveals the surprising presence of her fur coat hanging neatly on the accompanying chair. Her last memory of the fur was Andréa pulling it roughly from her body and flinging it across the room. “ _That’s for all the times you threw your coat onto my desk,_ ” she’d said, a megawatt smile belying the sharpness of her words.

One last look around the suite confirms that except for the lingering smell of sex on her own body, and the unusual disorder of the room, there’s nothing to indicate anything significant has even occurred here. Certainly no evidence remains of Andréa’s presence. In a pique of annoyance, she places the earrings in the pocket of her robe, but refuses to tidy up the other remnants of their debauchery.

She walks over to the desk, rejection an unwanted companion. Miranda knows she should shower straight away to remove all traces of Andréa, but instead she seeks comfort in the familiar. Absorbing herself in minutiae of _Runway_ is sure to distract her from a maelstrom of emerging emotions. Since nothing and no one else is reliable, work will once again save her.

Her faith in this solution lasts until she spots an envelope, sitting beside her laptop on the desk. Her name appears on the front in Andréa’s distinctive handwriting. In no hurry to read its contents, but unwilling to give in to cowardice, she sits down and opens it slowly, extracting a neatly written note, composed on expensive hotel stationery.

_Dear Miranda,_

_Leaving your bed is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, but we both know that whatever this is between us needs to remain a secret for now. So, please forgive me for sneaking out in the middle of the night - I’m really hoping to avoid being caught in a walk of shame._

_I have no idea how I’ll survive the rest of this trip pretending none of this has happened. Unlike most things in life, this night has exceeded all of my fantasies. I hope you realise that while we’re still here, while I’m pretending to be just your assistant, I’ll be thinking of every thing we did tonight. Every time you say my name in your best Miranda Priestly voice, I’ll remember all the other ways I’ve now heard you say it. And every time you hear me say, ‘yes Miranda’, I want you to remember all the times I yelled yes tonight..._

_Even before Paris, I knew there was so much more to you than your Snow Queen façade. I know that we have a lot of challenges ahead of us, but I’m really looking forward to spending more time with you. Our return to New York can’t come soon enough for me!_

_Your Andréa_

_P.S Notice I didn’t leave this note in your bed. We both know people only do that in dull Hollywood movies….and we will never be dull._

She rolls her eyes at the postscript but can’t help the smile that breaks through her maudlin musings. That Andréa has made it very clear she’s interested in more than sex is a relief. But it’s also a concern. Miranda has a poor track record when it comes to personal relationships. She can only hope that she doesn’t end up being Andréa’s biggest disappointment.

 

.


End file.
